Ugly is in the eye of the beholder
by T.M.K.06
Summary: Story inspired by the s4 ep Ugly. Just a oneshot. I'm just exploring a few thoughts the episode brought to mind.


**Ugly is in the eye of the beholder**

_This one-shot was inspired by the episode Ugly. Takes place a few weeks later but will not (obviously) contain references to l__ater episodes. There are some vague references to earlier episodes from all seasons, but mostly just Ugly._

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House looked up as he heard a knock on his office door. A teenage boy he didn't remember having seen before entered his office.

"Dr House," he greeted.

"Do I know you?" House asked.

"I'm Kenny ..." Kenny interrupted his speech and started again. "You helped me a few weeks ago. My heart stopped right when they were starting the operation to fix my face. You found out what was wrong."

"Hang on ..." House took a minute to cast his mind back to his recent cases. "Yeah, Lyme disease, the boy with the hiding rash. I think you said something about coming to see me to show how much prettier you are now, after the operation, than me?"

"Yeah," Kenny replied somewhat subdued. "I may have said something like that."

"So is this that visit then?" House asked. "Cause I still think I'm better looking than you. You know, age and charisma. Not to mention the cane, chicks love the cane."

"No, that's not why I'm here," Kenny said biting back a laugh. "No, I ... well; I think I came here to tell you that you were right."

"I usually am," House agreed. "Which means you have to be a little more specific if you want me to remember what you're talking about."

"You said that I could fix my face but it would not fix me," Kenny sighed.

"I'm fairly sure that is not what I said," House mused. "The sentiment I surely was trying to convey was that you can change your face but you cannot change yourself. Fixing implies that there was something wrong about you in the first place."

"You don't think there was?" Kenny asked a little cautiously.

"How could I know," House shrugged. "I saw you – what? – twice? or thereabouts. I have no idea if you needed fixing but in my experience most people that the so called _normal_ people want to fix don't need it."

"Thank you," Kenny said.

"So was that it?" House wondered. "You basically wanted to give me a chance to say _I told you so?_"

"No; that wasn't really it," Kenny was still hesitating a little. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"Talk to me," House frowned; he had heard that phrase before and he hadn't liked it then either. "I'm not a shrink nor do I do any emotional stuff or anything."

"I think I knew that already," Kenny nodded. "But I don't know who else I could talk to and I need to talk to someone who understands what I'm talking about. I don't need your advice or support I just need someone who gets what I'm talking about; who can tell me that I'm not speaking in some foreign language that nobody understands. I just need you to listen to me and tell me that you know what I'm saying."

"Family getting on your nerves?" House ventured.

"Yeah," Kenny nodded almost disconsolate. "I cannot make them understand that just because I look normal now I don't feel normal, not yet at least."

"You've been a freak for sixteen years of your life, you'll never feel normal," House threw at him callously.

"You think I made a mistake?" Kenny asked.

"Look, I'm supposed to be in the clinic in ten minutes," House sighed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I..." Kenny turned to go but House stopped him.

"Stop! And let me finish," House ordered. "You are as good an excuse for avoiding clinic duty as any, so care to go for a walk?"

"Ok," Kenny accepted feeling a little confused. Dr House was as abrupt and blunt as he remembered.

House took his coat and preceded Kenny out of his office. He didn't say anything until they had reached his usual spot at the jogging park. They sat down.

"So do I think you made a mistake," House repeated Kenny's question. "It really isn't for me to say. Sure, I didn't think that operation was important enough for you to risk your life, but other than that it's up to you to decide if it was a mistake or not."

"It didn't change things as much as I thought," Kenny admitted. "But I don't think it was a mistake. I do have problems now that I didn't have before, but at least I can walk in a crowd without everyone looking at me. Little girls no longer scream their heads of at the sight of me. That is good."

"Did that happen often?" House asked. "Children screaming when they saw you?"

"Often enough," Kenny nodded. "Sometimes they were curious, wanted to know if I was an alien or something, but then their parents usually dragged them away. They seemed to think I was going to harm their kids."

"Yeah, appearances do matter, if you care about that sort of thing," House agreed. "So that's an improvement. Isn't it enough?"

"When it comes to strangers, yeah, more than enough," Kenny stated. "But my family, people who have known me all my life – they never treated me normal and yet they now expect me to act normal, though I have never learned how. It's not that they didn't love me before, even if they didn't really know how to treat me. I've never doubted their love. But now I have some doubts about how **much** they loved me. I know they are happy **for** me; they know that looking normal will make things easier for me in the future. But they are so overjoyed now. It's like my face is **me**, or that I'm only my face. They used to tell me that I'm smart and strong and all those nice things you say to kids when you try to convince them that appearances don't really matter. But now they just keep telling me how handsome I am, how great my face looks. What happened to my smarts? Why are looks now more important than strength of character?"

"You have to give them time," House said. "They are euphoric. As I suspect you were, too, for the first few days, even a week, after your operation."

"Why?" Kenny insisted. "Why do I have to give them time? I'm the one who has gone trough all this! I'm the one who was a freak for sixteen years and now I don't know what I am because inside I don't feel any different. I'm not a different person. Before people only saw my face and didn't care who I was; now they still see my face and I – the real me – is still invisible. Only now I'm invisible to my family as well. Why am I the one who has to give them time?"

"Because that is how it goes," House shrugged. "The normal people expect it as their right. Life isn't fair, it never has been and it never will be. The thing is you're the strong one, so you have to be the one who makes allowances. That is if you care about your family. You can choose to go it alone as well, and not care about people, family or not. But somehow I don't think that would be your choice."

"Is that what you chose?" Kenny frowned.

"In a way," House revealed. "I never got along with my Dad, so there wasn't really that much choice there. I just wanted as far away from him as possible as soon as possible. And that was before I got crippled."

"So how long have you been a freak?" Kenny asked.

"All my life," House gave a short laugh. "Though visibly only for about ten years. No the thing is that I'm a Military brat. I don't even remember all the places and countries I lived in before I was ten. That actually is a little like your situation: your face set you apart like you were living in a foreign country. You learned the rules and systems of your world, but now you have settled in the good old US of A and suddenly you realise that you don't really know how people live here. You haven's seen the same TV-shows, you haven't gone to the same schools, you don't associate with the same music, you don't know the latest slang and you feel like you stand out like a sore thumb. Only, at the same time, you are completely invisible."

"Yeah, that's a lot like how I feel," Kenny sighed. "Only I don't know how I can make anyone understand it. Nobody in my family has lived in my world!"

"Nobody in my family lived in mine either," House replied with an inflection to his voice that made Kenny give him a frowning glance. He didn't elaborate on that, though. "Being a freak gives you a unique perspective to the world. Nobody who hasn't been there can quite get it. There are a few rare people who can come close to understanding you or at least they accept that you see things differently and they won't try to make you think _like normal people_. But those are few and far between. So you have to make up your mind: you will learn to fake normal or you stop caring what other people think and live your life entirely on your own terms."

"That sounds lonely," Kenny mused.

"That is why you're strong," House pointed out.

"Is there no other way?" Kenny wanted to know. "Middle ground?"

"I'm not big on middle ground," House admitted ruefully. "But I suppose there is. If you learn to fake normal well enough. And who knows, you may actually find a few people you can let close to you – the real you. But while waiting for that you'll have friends and acquaintances. Only you cannot change the fact that you will see people too clearly. You will always know that it's just your face they see. So choose the face with care."

"I was so sure that all my problems would go away if only I had a normal face," Kenny declared. "So did everyone else. Now it seems you're the only one who had and has a clue."

"I have plenty of clues," House smiled slightly. "I just cannot really share them with you since they work only for me. You have to find your own way of dealing with this. Didn't they get you in touch with some support group or something? Didn't you have one before?"

"I had one before, but I'm not sure I can go back there," Kenny sighed.

"Why not?" House asked. "Think they would resent you for your new face?"

"Maybe," Kenny nodded a little. "But also because my parents don't think I need it anymore and I don't know how I can change their minds about it."

"If you really want to do it, you'll find a way," House shrugged. "Once it's important enough for you, you will find a way."

"Being normal sucks," Kenny grumbled.

"Yeah, I know," House agreed.

"House!" Cuddy's voice made House turn towards the route to the hospital. Cuddy was striding angrily towards him. She looked good in her black pants and tweed coat that much to House's delight did not cover her behind. Not that he could see her behind when she was walking towards him, but he was anticipating her departure.

"With a patient," House shouted back and then turned to Kenny. "I think I'm in trouble with Mommy."

"She's not your mother," Kenny laughed.

"And deeply grateful I am for that," House stated.

"House!" Cuddy reached them with a few more strides. "You're supposed to be in the clinic! How many... Kenny?"

"Hello Dr Cuddy," Kenny greeted her.

"You're here with Dr House?" Cuddy wasn't sure she could believe her eyes.

"I told you I was with a patient," House repeated. "Kenny came by for that all important patient follow up. I would have thought you were pleased."

"The doctor is supposed to do the follow up, not the patient," Cuddy informed House.

"I knew something was wrong with this set up!" House exclaimed.

"I just needed to talk with Dr House," Kenny told Cuddy.

"House?" Cuddy checked. She wasn't sure she could believer her ears either. "You wanted to talk with Dr House."

"And we're not finished yet," House pointed out. "So, shoo. I'll come to the clinic once we're done."

"Talk with Dr House," Cuddy still repeated. "Ok. If that is what you wanted, fine." She turned to House: "I'll see you in the clinic after this then."

"Absolutely," House agreed and watched Cuddy walk away. He, naturally, checked her ass as she walked. When he turned to look at Kenny again he noticed that Kenny had followed his gaze and was checking Cuddy's ass, too. "She is forty, you know. A little too mature for you."

"Oh," Kenny blushed – probably all the way to his toes. "I didn't. It wasn't. Well you watched and I just wondered."

"Yeah, you'll be just fine my boy," House gave him a small, gentle jab with his fist. "You'll be just fine."

The End


End file.
